The Bourne Resurrection
by rochesters
Summary: Nearly four years after the events of The Bourne Paradox, Jason Bourne once again finds himself unwillingly entangled in the web of his former life and the target of a new threat that threatens to destroy everyone around him. Post-Ultimatum, AU-Legacy.


**The Bourne Resurrection**  
By Rochesters

Disclaimer: Not mine, with the exception of all original characters specifically created for this piece.

**Prologue**

_He hears the sound of rain falling, coming in steady sheets, drumming against the windshield of the Mercedes whose back seat he finds himself sitting in. In front of him is the silhouette of a man who stares ahead, watching the traffic._

_Out the driver's side, he sees the building – the green sign, the marquee lights on the awning – standing in the rain, dark and ominous._

_There is darkness, then a sudden strobe of imagery: highway signs, brass numbers, and a glimpse of a face._

_Then darkness._

_He sees the street as the car keeps driving, the blue and red lights distorted against the rain sodden windows._

_"This is not a drill soldier," says the passenger in the front seat. "We clear on that?"_

_He sees his Sig in his hand, the black metal gripped tightly in his hand._

_Darkness._

_He sees a photograph of a family, gone sepia with age. There is a father, a mother and a little girl – all of them smiling. His focus is on the man, whose head is resting against the dark hair of his daughter, smiling._

_Light strobes; changing colors as he feels the car slowing down. Outside, he can see the activity on the street._

_"This is a live project," the man says._

_He sees the man from the picture through a crack from his hiding place. He is on the phone. More numbers flash in front of him, going so quickly that he cannot discern them._

_He looks out the back window; see the lights from the street rippling from the water._

_"You're a go."_

_He hears the voice of a woman speaking in Russian, her voice fading as the man – his target – appears before his eyes. He is speaking to someone._

_The Mercedes stops and he gets out of the car and walks. He doesn't know where he's heading, just that his feet are carrying him there by memory._

_"Training is over."_

_The scenes are moving too quickly. He sees his target on his cell phone. The wallpapered corridors of a hotel. Brass numbers on a door that opens._

_Everything is going by so fast that he cannot understand what is being replayed to him in his dreams._

_A woman is begging for her life, her pleas coming in fractures words and she is sobbing._

_He sees himself standing behind a doorway, his face barely visible in the ajar doorway._

_There is another roadway sign. He can still hear her begging, her voice becoming more frantic before he hears his gun._

_The click; the trigger is ready._

_"Training is over," says Conklin._

_He fires the gun._

Jason Bourne woke up, his forehead covered with a sheen of perspiration. He inhaled deeply as he realized that he was still in bed. He blinked as he lay still, silently composing himself.

Outside, the wind chimes that she had put up when they first moved into the little cottage, swayed in the night breeze, tinkling.

Jason turned his head, listening and waiting, before he relaxed back into the pillows. Careful not to rouse her, Jason sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Sitting there, he took a few deep breaths – a relaxation technique that came naturally to him – and thought of his dream.

He could still hear the woman's screams and Conklin's voice echoing through his thoughts, as well as the sound of waves and wind chimes in the distance.

On the last breath, Jason pushed himself off the mattress and stood on his feet. His bare soles hardly made a sound on the hardwood floor as he walked towards the bathroom.

In the bathroom, he turned on the light and began to rummage through the medicine cabinet. If this dream was like any of his other ones, a migraine would be sure to follow.

The migraine wouldn't be the type that Mia's voice could sooth with just her talking. It would lay him up for a day or two, causing Jason to hide under a cloak of darkness - with the blankets pulled over his head, the shutters closed, just him and the darkness – while he fought the nausea in his stomach.

Jason knew that the pills he was looking for where somewhere in the bathroom and he was dead set on finding him. He barely noticed that Mia had woken up and come to find him until he looked towards the doorway by chance and saw her standing there.

Mia, wearing a tunic and her underwear, cocked her head and sighed, worried reflected all over her features. The moonlight illuminated her body, showing her curves underneath the pink fabric.

"I'm okay. It's fine," Jason assured her as he went back to searching for the pills, feeling guilty for causing the woman he loved even more worry.

He had to turn away, not wanting to see her hazel eyes staring at him. Swallowing, Jason said, "It's just a headache."

Mia stepped across the threshold of the bathroom and placed her hand on Jason's bicep. Her cool touch calmed him, bringing him back to reality.

He felt Mia press her hand against his forehead. "You're burning up," she said, pushing passed him for one of the towels that hung near the shower.

Jason heard her run the facet as he found the pills. He felt the coolness of a damp towel on the back of his neck before he went to the sink, the pill bottle opened in his hands. With a quick gulp of water, two pills went down his throat and Jason reached to close the cabinet.

When he turned around, Jason saw Mia looking at him, still worried. "It's okay," he whispered, reaching for a strand of her dark hair. "Just a headache," he added as Jason left the bathroom.

He made his way out to the porch, feeling the cool night air on his skin. Somewhere in the distance, Jason could hear the techno music coming from a late night rave over the sound of the waves crashing onto the beach. Pressing his lips together, Jason listened to the water and sound of Mia's footsteps as she followed him outside.

Jason looked down at his feet, embarrassed, as she approached him. He was always the strong one, the protector. No matter how long they were together, Jason would feel uncomfortable in any other role.

Sometimes, even he knew that he needed protecting.

They stood there for a moment, before Mia said, "Anything new?"

Jason shook his head, his frustration growing. "No." He sighed and barely glanced at Mia. "Just bits and pieces."

Mia was silent, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I can hear Conklin's voice and there's that photograph," he said, his voice trailing off as Jason became lost in thought. He shook his head. "I just can't stay with it."

"But you're sure it's not just a bad dre-"

"It happened," Jason insisted, cutting Mia off. "It was a mission. And I was there."

He could feel the guilt, the anger, the frustration, and the empty feeling filling him at once. Jason hated himself for his broken memories. He wanted his mind restored, to remember everything about himself.

"You should write it down," Mia replied.

Jason let out a sigh and looked down. "For two years, we're scribbling in that notebook…" he said, his emotions getting the best of him.

"It hasn't been two years," Mia said to him, a vain attempt to reassure Jason.

Jason shook his head. "It's always bad, and now it's just the same thing over and over again."

"But that's why we write it down. Because sooner or later, you remember something good," Mia replied as if speaking to a child.

"I do remember something good," Jason said, staring out at the water and watching the moonlight dance across the waves. He looked at Mia and whispered, "All the time."

He saw a lazy smile dance across Mia's lips, the smile she got when he endeared her with his ill-mood. Jason could feel it melting away as she came up behind and wrapped her arms around his midsection. The weight of her chin on his shoulder brought the end of his self-imposed despondency, allowing Jason to feel at ease for the first time that evening.

Before his morning run, Jason wrote the dream down in his notebook. As the pen scribbled down his words onto the white sheets of paper, he felt better and remembered no matter what happened he always had Mia.

Still the dream haunted his thoughts as he ran down the beach, feeling the sun beating down on his sweat sodden shirt. He ran as hard and faster as he could, not giving into the tired protests of his body, trying to out run the demons that lurched in his thoughts.

He kept pushing and pushing harder until all he heard was the sound of his feet hitting the sand and his steady breathing.

Jason found himself in the middle of the market later on. Spotting a food vendor, Jason made his way over and purchased bottled water with the cash he had in the pocket of his cargo shorts.

Jason uncapped the water and took a long gulp, letting the cold liquid replenish his body, before continuing to stroll through the market.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sounded a car. There were many cars making their way through the marketplace, but this one seemed out of place.

Perhaps it was the brand new body, the shining rims, and the tan leather interior, but something about this vehicle seemed off.

Jason watched the car as the driver maneuvered their way through the traffic. Walking a few paces behind the slow moving vehicle, Jason spied on its movement.

He knew in his gut that it wasn't a lost tourist, but something more sinister.

The car stopped, parking awkwardly against the curb. The occupant got out and Jason just knew. He tossed his water bottle into the nearest garbage can and took off running.

_This is not happening_, he thought as he picked up his pace. _This can't be happening._

Jason didn't remember the run back to the cottage, only except he found the keys to the jeep and drove to the café that Mia liked to frequent. As he pulled up, he stopped her sitting at a table.

Jason honked the horn, catching Mia's attention. She came towards the jeep, smiling, "Hey," she said cheerfully as she came along side of the driver's side.

"Get in," Jason demanded.

Her smile faded. "What's wrong," she asked as she got into the passenger side.

"We're blown," he replied.

As she opened the door, she asked quietly, "How?"

"We pushed it," Jason said as he watched the beach in front of him. "We got lazy." As he pulled the jeep into reverse, he spotted the operative staring straight at them. Jason's instincts kicked in, switching the gears. He pressed down on the gas, sending the jeep forward.

He drove down the narrow roadway, avoiding pedestrians and other traffic. Jason glanced at the rearview mirror and saw the car.

"All right," Jason said, alternating his vision between the traffic in front of him and the car tailing them in their escape. He pressed down on the car horn "That's twice now I've seen the same guy. I saw him in town. He was at the telegraph office."

"Are you sure? How," Mia's voice flattered. "How can you be sure?"

"It's just wrong," Jason remarked, his gaze turning to Mia. Did she not have the same feeling in her gut? She had been trained just like him. "The guy, the car he's driving, what he's wearing – it's just wrong." He looked at her, hoping it would jog her memory.

A bus pulled out in front of them, causing Jason to slam on the brakes. His fist collided with the horn, punching it desperately in hopes that the bus would hurry.

Something was wrong. Jason could feel it in the marrow of his body.

It wasn't just the operative, but something wrong with Mia. Her mind – the mind he knew – wasn't there and he couldn't put his finger on way.

"Look, Jason, let's stay calm," she said. "It could be anybody."

His heart sank while his mind raced. Something about this conversation seemed so familiar. "This is real," he uttered before saying, "This is real. That's him. That's him right there."

On the driver's side, the car was stopped in an alley, waiting for him.

"Get your head down," Jason demanded, pushing Mia's head down with on hand. "Silver Hyundai. Get your head down."

Jason crossed the intersection, trying to block Mia's body as best as he could while in the operative's line of vision. He drove, heading towards the direction of the bridge. If he cleared the bridge, a plethora of highways would be open to them.

As he drove, Jason looked out the side mirror, seeing the Hyundai a few cars behind him. His heart beat faster as Jason asked himself, _why does this seem so familiar?_

Jason made a sharp turn, coming dangerously close to flipping the jeep on its side. The car jostled as he centered the steering wheel. "How far is he?" When Mia didn't answer him, Jason said more forcefully, "How far?"

She glanced behind her and replied, "A hundred meters."

Another turn and Jason drove the jeep down a dirt road meant for pedestrian traffic. Dust kicked up from the tires, obscuring his vision as he avoided fences and porches.

Seeing the road that would take them to the bridge, Jason unbuckled his seat belt and began scooting over. "Here, take the wheel," he said. "You're gonna drive."

Mia could hardly protest as she grabbed the wheel. Effortlessly, they switched seats. Jason watched as Mia took control of the vehicle.

"Just head to the bridge," he said as he took a gun out of the glove compartment. For a moment, he thought of his dream and the gun in his hand. Jason blinked, returning to the present.

In silence, the jeep made its way closer the bridge, winding down unpaved roads and sharp turns.

When they came to the field, Jason turned to Mia after he checked the rear view.

"Turn here," he said. "Cut through the field.

Mia gripped the steering wheel and uttered, "Hang on."

The jeep went down a short slope, bumping against rocks, dirt and grass, until it made it to level ground. The sturdy vehicle made its way over the uneven terrain, putting distance between them and the pursuing Hyundai.

Jason watched as Mia focused on getting them to the bridge. Every so often he glanced behind them, half expecting the operative to attempt to get his car to follow them.

They burst out onto the roadway, cutting off an oncoming bus. Mia steadied the jeep, making it fall in line with the rest of the traffic.

"All right, you keep going to the shack. I'll meet you there in one hour," Jason said as he checked the gun's chamber and cocked the hammer. "I'm going to bail out on the other side of this bridge. It's the only way he can follow us."

"What if it's not who you think it is?" asked Mia as she drove, the wind whipping her hair against her face.

Jason shook head. "It's them. It's Treadstone." He stopped. _Treadstone_, he wondered. Treadstone was gone.

"Jason," said Mia, her voice penetrating into his thoughts. "Don't do it."

"Look, Mia. I warned them."

"I don't want you to do it!"

Jason balled his fists. "I told them what would happen if they didn't leave us alone."

"It's never going to be over like this," Mia replied, trying to reason with him. "I don't want…"

"We don't have a choice!" Jason yelled over the roar of the jeep's engine.

"Yes, you do."

The words echoed in his thoughts – bringing him back to a day he wished he would forget. Ironic for a man who spent years trying to recover his memories.

_Yes, you do._

Jason turned his head, his mouth falling out in shock.

Marie sat in the jeep, driving it towards the bridge. Her familiar face: the angular jaw, her tanned skin and her blonde hair blowing in the breeze. She was looking at him with that expression she got when Marie knew that she was right.

It suddenly came back to him at warp speed.

Goa. Marie. Kirill with his sniper's gun.

Before Jason could react, he heard the gunshot.

Darkness.

* * *

Jason Bourne doused himself with cool water, holding his hands to his face and let the remaining liquid seep out the cervices of his fingers. After a few moments, he put his hands on the counter top, breathing heavily as his heart pounded against his chest.

He could feel the beginnings of an intense headache start to throb at his temples, moving towards the base of his skull.

Jason swallowed as he caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror, remembering.

_Goa. Mia. Kirill with his gun. Marie._

He blinked, feeling the sweat on his eyelids, and ran a hand through his hair. Jason began to rummage through the medicine cabinet for pain killers. He found them hidden behind his deodorant and went to uncap the bottle.

Jason shook the bottle, tapping two pills out with his index finger. He stared at the round pills, shaking his head in frustration before popping them into his mouth. Jason ran the faucet, letting a cupped hand gather enough water to get the pills down. He drank from his hand and let out a disguised grunt from the bitter residue of the pills.

Flicking off the lights in the bathroom, Jason got back into bed. After settling his body under the light blanket that covered the bed, Jason turned his attention to the window.

It was still dark out and not quite two in the morning, judging by the stars in the night sky. Jason turned over in bed, his thoughts drifting to _her_.

He remembered that he had laid in bed with Mia, their limbs intertwined as they both looked out the window to see Turin at night.

Jason shook his head and frowned. It pained him to think about her, but most days he found that he couldn't not think about Mia.

He felt the pain medication make his drowsy as he continued to stare out into the night. Jason felt his eyelids slowly closing and decided not to fight it, welcoming sleep to overcome him.

At least that way, he had a temporary way of forgetting for a one brief moment, Jason Bourne had been happy – truly happy – and she was gone.

* * *

**Author's Note:** For those of you who are curious, yes, I literally watched the opening scene of _The Bourne Supremacy_ over and over again until I got the scenes correct. Luckily, Matt Damon made it bearable.


End file.
